The Power of Music
by kidwithwingz
Summary: Everything that happens afterwards. Louis, Lyla, and August get reunited. "Just the fact that he was living with Lyla and August made everything infinitely better."
1. The Power of Music

The coda blasted through the air, layers of fluid harmony twisting and turning through the crisp New York atmosphere until they were wisps of smoke and sound waves trembling under the radiant lights of the theater. As the slightly-short conductor performed the last note with a flourish, a wave of deafening applause shook the stage as the audience extolled their plaudits onto this incredible prodigy – the former nobody, the future Mozart, and the current August Rush.

Below the acclamations of _August!_ that thundered incessantly throughout the park, the audience was oblivious to an astonishing miracle unraveling near the front left section of the crowd.

Slowly, barely daring to breathe, Louis Connelly looked incredulously at the woman who had just pushed her way in front of him. His ice blue eyes – filled with cold and grief for the past eleven years – were suddenly full with warmth as he used one hand to grasp hers, using the other to reach up and touch her still-beautiful face.

She whirled around, eyes twinkling as if in a dream, and for a small moment they looked earnestly into each other's eyes with expressions of disbelief and happiness. Feeling slightly faint (probably from lack of air), Louis breathed her name.

"_Lyla_."

* * *

Lyla Novacek was shivering with excitement, mixed with the nippy spring air of the park. She pushed and shoved her way through the throng of people, listening to the last notes of the coda wafting its way through the air as the audience exploded in applause around her. Finally, she squeezed her way around a tall man in a leather jacket, just as the undersized conductor turned around to give a bow.

He didn't bow, however. Lyla saw his eyes- brilliant blue and _searching_ for something. Her breath caught in her throat, and she froze.

_This is my son._

The four words had barely formed concretely in Lyla's mind when she felt a warm, calloused hand envelope her small, shaking one. She spun around, eyes full of tears threatening to fall again, and came face-to-face to the man she once – and _still_ – loved, she realized.

As he reached up and caressed her face, all Lyla could do was stare, mouth agape, into the beautiful eyes that looked so foreign and yet familiar all at once, the eyes that had the same smiling, searching sensation of the conductor. Of her _son_.

At the same time he breathed her name, she said his.

"_Louis_."

* * *

Onstage, the newly famed August Rush was oblivious to the roar of applause basking around him. He had heard something under the music, and, smiling widely, he turned around, searching for it.

The concertmaster was examining him quizzically, motioning for him to bow, but August continued to comb through the audience, searching for something the music whispered to him to find. _Something_ – and yet he didn't know _what._

August Rush stepped off the podium, bowed hastily, and _ran_ offstage.

* * *

Just a few hundred feet away from August Rush, Lyla's face broke into a smile at the sound of Louis's voice – breathless but melodic, and rhythmic like a symphony of cool, summer winds. The left side of his mouth lifted into a crooked, warm half-smile as she reached up and touched his lips, exploring the striking features of his face.

Suddenly, in the corner of her eye, the conductor raced off stage, tripping over a stray microphone wire as a bewildered violinist struggled to help him. Lyla gasped, and Louis spun around in time to see a small boy with piercing blue eyes fumble through a tangle of wires before running backstage, the tails of his suit whipping around the corner.

Louis turned to face Lyla, who in a split second yanked up the train of her white concert dress, jumped over the rusty gate barrier, and began running towards the door backstage. For the second time that night, Louis ran after her.

* * *

Back onstage, the very confused concertmaster stood up, the orchestra following suit. With a gesture from the bemused dean, she nervously motioned for the orchestra to take a bow. It seemed to have worked on the audience, who clapped even louder, expecting August to march onstage again any minute.

Just as August pummeled his way backstage, he ran straight into Mr. Jeffries, whose worn appearance seemed to glow with happiness as he placed his hands on August's shoulders, stopping him in mid-run.

"Evan! _Evan!_" he said hurriedly, as August tried to squirm out of his arms. "I found them! Your mother came in yesterday, and –"

August stopped struggling immediately, his eyes wide. "Where are they, Mr. Jeffries?" he breathed.

"Well, first I'd have to go back to the HQ, give her a call, get you someplace safe… hey, where are you going, Evan? _Evan!_"

August was beaming as he ran. "They're _here_, Mr. Jeffries! Both of them!"

He continued to run, and Mr. Jeffries sprinted behind him, shouting his name and asking a million questions at once.

"I could tell, the music told me so," August continued. "_They were listening._"

* * *

Louis cursed under his breath. "_Lyla_!" he shouted after her, leaping over the barrier. "_Lyla_!"

She was smiling as he caught up, and grasping one of his hands, they ran together behind the stage, out of sight.

August was worried. He searched everywhere backstage, hoping that they were somewhere waiting with open arms. He ran back onstage, and the still-applauding audience roared even louder. August was oblivious – he didn't wave, bow, or even smile. He just searched.

"Louis," panted Lyla, as they ran. "Louis, we have to find him."

She sounded desperate and on the verge of tears, and for some reason, Louis did too. He didn't understand _why_. He just felt the exigency of the moment, of finding him.

He stopped her.

"Lyla, who _is_ he?"

She looked stunned for a second, her eyes wide and confused, but then her face broke into a smile and she squeezed his hand. Her laughter was like music. Louis looked deeply into her eyes, as if to say, _I'm listening to anything you have to say._

She took a deep breath and beamed.

"I have a son," she said, smiling and crying at the same time. "Louis_, I have a son_."

A million emotions filled Louis. He forgot how to breathe. Tears streamed down Lyla's face, and she kept laughing her lovely laugh.

"Louis, _we_ have a son."

His heart stopped. He almost died of ecstasy.

* * *

August couldn't see them anywhere in the crowd. Numbly, he stared into the stars as the announcer exalted his name. He barely heard it.

_Why hadn't they come?

* * *

_

_Ladies and gentlemen, the prodigy, the genius, the sensation… _the _August Rush_.

* * *

Lyla gasped when she heard it. His name was like music.

"Louis, Louis that's _him_!"

She jumped up and down, her face tear-streaked and glowing. Laughing, as if he couldn't believe it, Louis wrapped her in his arms, erasing the tears with his thumb. Lyla kissed the palm of his hand.

"Lyla," he breathed. "_Oh, Lyla_."

* * *

Slowly, August Rush collapsed to his knees. He looked out into the deafening crowd until all he saw was the blinding white stage lights and all he heard was the roar of the applause. He was shivering, numb, and he couldn't see or hear or feel.

Standing behind the curtain, Mr. Jeffries had finally caught up. He wanted to run onstage and help the small prodigy, but he didn't know how. Over all his fame and brilliance, August Rush was, after all, just a _boy_.

A single tear rolled down the boy's cheek.

* * *

Onstage, hand in hand, Louis and Lyla walked slowly towards the boy in the middle of the stage. A force like electricity seemed to pull them towards each other, musician to musician, parents to son. They fell on their knees next to him, too stunned to speak.

August slowly turned around and saw two angels, one dark and one light. Like yin and yang, they seemed to fit perfectly with one another. He couldn't stop staring at their beauty, as if the instant he looked somewhere else they would fly away from him to heaven, where they belonged.

The dark one, who wore a face of equal astonishment, smiled and caressed August's cheek, stroking away the tears. August stared into his refulgent blue eyes, so not unlike his own. He touched the strong hand on his wet cheek, felt the dark leather jacket the angel wore, and reached up to touch the angel's smooth, gentle face. Once he felt as though he memorized every feature, August turned to the other angel next to him.

She took his breath away. She was the epitome of beauty, and as she smiled at him he felt at home, in heaven. Her honey brown hair, exactly the same color of August's, framed her face like a halo, and her golden skin glowed like the sun. She reached out her hands and August took them, feeling the power in her fingertips from the music.

Slowly, Lyla pulled him into her arms. She stroked his hair as tears broke freshly across her face again, and she never wanted to let go of this part of her. August closed his eyes and held tightly on to her, as if he was in a dream and never wanted to wake up. Beside him, Louis rubbed his back, still brushing away the tears that leaked through August's eyes. He was crying himself, too overjoyed for words.

_Finally_, they all thought.

* * *

The audience didn't understand the miracle. All they saw was the cello soloist walking onstage again, still wearing her white dress and with a man, possibly her husband. They embraced the young prodigy, who had collapsed to his knees, probably overwhelmed by the applause he received. For a while, they huddled together in the middle of the stage as the applause subdued slightly.

Then together they stood up, the boy holding hands in the middle with the woman and her husband, and they took one last bow in concert.

* * *

* * *

This is my most favorite movie of all time. The ending was perfect, but I was left wondering, _what happens next?_ like in all movies. Hope you enjoyed it!

Love,

Ellete


	2. Fierce Like Beyonce

"_August_," said a sing-song voice. "_Wake up, August..._"

Someone shook him gently. He stirred and felt two people sit next to him on the bed.

"_August, honey_." A softer voice.

He opened his eyes. A soft glow radiated from his window as the seven AM morning sun crept inside the room. Lyla kissed his forehead and took off his headphones, which were still playing the Tchaikovsky concerto he listened to as he fell asleep last night. She brushed his unruly hair away from his face and smiled.

"Good morning Mozart."

August smiled back.

"Good morning Mom_._"

It felt good to say that.

He looked to his left, where his father was opening the blinds so the sunshine illuminated the details in the simple room, which was covered in unfinished sheet music and semi-unpacked boxes. The small new family had just moved from Lyla's apartment to a house in Brooklyn.

"Morning Dad."

It felt good to say that too.

"Mornin' August," Louis replied, beginning to pick up pages of music off the floor. August had fallen asleep composing mid-sonata last night, and Louis had carried him from the table to his bed. He forgot that his son was only eleven sometimes, since August was always working.

"How's the sonata goin'?"

August groaned and Louis exchanged looks with Lyla, smiling.

Lyla kissed her son's forehead reassuringly. "Don't push yourself too hard, August. The dean asked for it by September, so you still have another 2 whole months."

Louis sat beside Lyla on the bed.

"It sounds good enough to _me_ so far." He winked and August smiled, knowing that his dad barely know a thing about classical music.

August looked at the grey suit his dad was wearing. With the black tie, he looked like the male model from the Armani billboard on 5th Avenue. He also looked a bit ridiculous, and August decided he liked his dad's customary leather jacket better.

"Nice suit, Dad," he said, grinning.

Louis laughed.

"Think it's good enough to impress the recording bloke in Philly?"

Lyla smiled and took his hand.

"You look _great_," she said. "And you'll _do _great."

Louis breathed in and brushed her hair back with his hand, smiling. He had to admit he was a bit nervous about the recording contract that morning, but just the fact that he was living with Lyla and August made everything infinitely better.

"Thanks, love." He kissed her quickly and looked at August, who was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Have fun with Hope and Reverend James today, August," he said as August yawned. "Tell 'em I said hi."

He kissed his son's forehead and stood up, straightening his suit.

"I better run. Interview's at 11 and I can't be late."

Lyla stood up and straightened his tie.

"Like Marshall will probably be," she said, smirking, and Louis chuckled and rolled his eyes. He kissed her one last time.

"Good luck, Dad," August chirped. "Tell Uncle Marshall I said hi."

Louis smiled, ruffling his son's hair.

"See you at dinner, August."

* * *

August had to put his feet on his mom's cello case, as it took up most of the space in the backseat of the taxi they were in. He and Lyla had just had lunch at a café where the dean of Julliard discussed concert venues and dates for the two of them. Now they were driving towards 31st street, and Lyla was chatting with the driver about the concert that weekend, encouraging him to go.

"We'll be playing Mahler and Elgar, which is just _beautiful_," she gushed. "Oh, and a piece by Beethoven that you've probably heard before."

She sang the melody of _Für Elise_ and the driver chuckled. Lyla winked at August, and he smiled.

"I'll see if I can come," the driver said, pulling to a stop. "My wife just _loves_ classical music. Here we are– St. Francis."

Lyla thanked the driver and asked him to wait a few minutes as she dropped August off. August got out of the taxi, careful not to step on his mother's cello, and they walked inside the church.

"Reverend James?" Lyla called out hesitantly.

A door opened.

"Lyla!"

The reverend laughed and Lyla gave him a hug, kissing him on the cheek.

"It's good to see you, Lyla. I haven't seen you since your wedding!"

He smiled at August, who smiled back. Lyla had married Louis officially in this church just a few weeks ago, with Reverend James as the Justice of the Peace.

"Louis doing fine?"

Lyla smiled. "Just perfect, Reverend. Absolutely perfect. He says hi."

She smiled at August.

"I hope it's okay that I leave August here for a few hours. Usually he comes with me to rehearsals and the orchestra just loves him, but this one is closed."

The reverend ruffled August's hair and chuckled.

"Don't worry, Lyla. We love him here too."

It was true. A week after Louis and Lyla's wedding, August had composed a few quick chorals for the church choir. As a result, Julliard gave the church a huge endowment. They adored him.

Lyla smiled and bent down to face her son.

"If you need anything, just call. I'll come as soon as I can."

August smiled and gave his mother a hug as she kissed his cheek.

"I'll be at Carnegie just a few minutes away, sweetie. See you soon."

He watched as she thanked Reverend James one last time and walked towards the taxi. As it drove away, she blew them a kiss and waved, and August laughed and waved back.

"_I like your mom_," said a high-pitched voice from behind August.

August whirled around. Hope was standing at the foot of the stairs, wearing a secondhand dress that was a size too big for her diminutive frame.

She ran to him, tackling him in a hug. August laughed and spun her in a circle.

"It's good to see you, Hope!" He smiled.

Hope giggled. "You sound like your _dad_."

August grinned and took it as a compliment.

"Wanna get ice cream?" Hope asked eagerly. Without waiting for August's answer, she looked at the reverend with puppy eyes, and he laughed, handing her a few dollars.

"Don't get lost," he said, and Hope hugged the reverend's knees.

"We won't, Reverend James. I _promise_ I won't lose him. August and I will be right back."

And she grabbed his hand and ran.

* * *

"Hope, do you like opera?"

August licked some of his chocolate ice cream off the side of the cone before it dribbled onto the floor again. Beside him, Hope was already halfway finished with her double scoop of coconut, and had managed to not spill a single drop.

She wrinkled her nose.

"Ehh." She took another bite of the cone and munched it noisily. "Not _really_."

August copied her, crunching into his cone.

"But it's so _beautiful_," he said, and Hope laughed.

"You think _all_ music is beautiful, August." She licked off the rest of her ice cream and stuffed the rest of the cone into her mouth. For someone her age and size, Hope always ate as much as she could, whenever she could get it.

"One time," she began, as August continued to slowly lick his ice cream, "when we lived in Maryland, my grandma took me to see this opera singer at our church. I guess she _did _sound really beautiful..."

She thought a little, sucking on the tip of her pinky.

"But she was so _fat_!"

August laughed, and his ice cream dripped onto the cement. Hope giggled with him.

"Aren't you gonna finish that?" she asked him.

August shook his head and offered it to her. "Makes my head hurt a little."

Hope rolled her eyes and took the cone out of his hands, finishing it for him.

"But it's so _good_. How can you _not_ love _ice cream_?"

She giggled again, and August smiled.

"I guess we like different things," he said.

Hope nodded and licked the ice cream cone happily.

"I'm going to write an opera for you," August added, grinning. "And I'll convince the dean to let you sing it at the fall concert."

She laughed. "I don't _want_ to be a fat opera singer. I want to be _fierce_." She narrowed her eyes intensely, and August raised an eyebrow. "Like Beyonce," she added.

Hope finished the rest of August's ice cream and sighed longingly.

"Who's Beyonce?" August asked.

Hope raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

"You've _never_ heard of Beyonce?" she asked loudly and incredulously, and the ice cream vendor chuckled from inside his cart.

August shook his head.

"She's the music _queen_!" Hope cried. "You never heard _Déjà vu_ or _Irreplacable_ or _Crazy in Love_?"

She stood up and cleared her throat. "_Got me lookin' so crazy right now, ya' love's got me lookin' so crazy right now_…"

She looked at her friend expectantly and groaned at the bemused look on August's face.

"Come _on_," she said, grabbing her friend's hand again. "I got all the CDs for my birthday last year. They're upstairs in the church."

* * *

"Bye, August!"

Hope hugged her friend around the middle, and August swung her in a circle again.

"See you at rehearsal, Hope. I've already got a _million_ ideas for that opera."

Hope giggled. He smiled, said goodbye to Reverend James again, and got into the taxi with Lyla.

"How was your day with Hope and Reverend James?" Lyla asked as August put his feet gently on the cello case again.

He half-smiled the way Louis did every time he saw Lyla or August in concert.

"I learned about Beyonce," he announced.

Lyla smiled, and August began to sing, dancing a little. Lyla and the driver laughed and clapped as they watched August's soulful rendition of the song.

"_It doesn't matter who you are, you're always welcome… It only matters that your heart believes_…"

Lyla joined in with a sweet soprano.

"_Callin' on all of God's children, time to come home…_"

"_If you wanna be delivered, time to come home."_

"'_Cause when you feel like you're forsaken, life can be so hopeless..."_

"_Maybe you need to come home so your life can be planned."_

* * *

Louis had arrived at _Fiorello's _first, and was waiting at the entrance for Lyla and August. He saw his family pull up to the restaurant in a taxi, paid and thanked the driver, and got Lyla's cello out of the backseat.

"Hello, love," he said, kissing Lyla fully on the mouth as she got out of the car. He gave August a hug and kissed the top of his head. "I missed ya' August."

August smiled.

"I missed you too, Dad."

They walked into the restaurant, leaving Lyla's cello with the maitre'd, who was used to the family coming in on Friday nights.

"How did the interview go?" Lyla asked as they sat down and ordered what they usually got – lamb for Louis, veal for Lyla, and soup and pizza for August.

Louis ran a hand through his hair.

"Well, Marshall came abou' an hour late. And he was a bit hungover."

Lyla rolled her eyes.

"At least Gina's just like him," she said, referring to Marshall's girlfriend who was absolutely in love with him, and who also shared all his bad habits.

Louis smiled and nodded, taking sip of his water as Lyla ordered some juice for August.

"Well we managed to get the contract signed anyway," he announced, grinning.

August looked up from where he was scribbling music into a notebook. He beamed at Louis, his twinkling eyes identical to his father's.

"That's great, dad!" August exclaimed, and Louis laughed, ruffling his son's hair.

"Thanks, August. How was your day with Reverend James?"

August smirked and hesitated.

"Hope taught me about _Beyonce_."

Louis chuckled and Lyla smiled, taking his hand.

"I think I've 'eard of her," Louis said, squeezing his wife's hand. He put on a face that Hope would have only described as "_fierce_," and began to sing soulfully to Lyla and August.

"_Got me lookin' so crazy right now, ya' love's got me lookin' so crazy right now… Got me hopin' ya' page me right now, ya' kiss got me hopin' ya' save me right now_…"

The people around them began to smile and wonder what was going on, as Lyla and August joined in.

"_Lookin' so crazy your love's got me lookin', got me lookin' so crazy in looove._"

* * *

Phew! This movie came on TV a few nights ago and reminded me of how much I love it. This is kind of a follow-up to Chapter One, what happens after they get reunited. Louis and Lyla legally adopted August (and kept his name), got married, moved in together, and are good friends with everyone still. I'll probably write more about what happens next to everybody, because it's just such a great movie! Well I hope you enjoyed this.

Love, Ellete.


End file.
